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“Kostas!” I call out, my heart pumping against my ribcage. For the last few days, since I was almost taken, I haven’t allowed Kostas to leave my sight, and surprisingly, he’s been extremely patient about it, allowing me to stick to his side without making me feel as though I’m a burden. While he’s had his father brought home from the hospital and hired a couple of nurses to care for him while he recovers, I’ve helped him plan his mother’s funeral.

Which is today.

“Kostas!” I call out again, climbing out of bed to find him. He wouldn’t have left without me, right? When I hear his commanding tone through the walls, I take a breath of relief, knowing he’s here. I round the corner and find him standing in his home office, already dressed in his black suit. I swear the man practically lives in suits. Not that I’m complaining. He looks hot as hell in them.

When he sees me approach, he tilts his chin down, indicating for me to join him, without stopping his conversation. When I get over to his desk, where he’s sitting, he pats the top of the oak desk, silently telling me to hop on, so I do. Coyly, I spread my legs wide, placing one foot on each arm of his chair, giving him a full view between my legs. Kostas smirks, knowing exactly what I’m up to. I swear the man has the patience and restraint of a saint. If it weren’t for the way he’s constantly touching and kissing me, I would have quite the complex by now.

“I will speak to my father and let you know,” he tells whoever he’s talking to. “Today isn’t the day to discuss it.” His hands run up my bare thighs and under my silky pajama short bottoms, near where I want him, without actually touching me there. When I scoot closer, trying to trick his hands into touching me, he chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. “Very well. I will see you in a couple hours.”

He hangs up and sets his phone down, giving me his undivided attention.

“I got worried when I didn’t see you in bed.” The corners of my mouth turn down into a frown.

“I’ll never be far from you, zoí mou.” He leans in and captures my mouth with his own. When my arms wrap around his neck, and I pull him closer to me, he breathes out a laugh and backs up. “Not now, moró mou. We need to leave soon for the funeral.” When my lips purse together in displeasure, he lifts me off the desk and swats my ass. “Go get ready. Now.”

Stepping into the limo that’s going to take us to the church and cemetery, where the funeral is being held, I’m momentarily taken aback when I see Aris is already in the limo waiting. I should’ve expected him to be here, but I’ve made it a point to think about the man as little as possible.

“Talia,” Aris says with a wicked smirk. The same smirk I once thought was playful. How could I have been so stupid to believe he was a good guy? A man I could consider a friend?

“Aris,” I say dryly, scooting to the other side of the seat.

Kostas slides in next to me and pulls me into his side. The ride there is silent. Kostas is on his phone doing business, and I’m checking out my social media accounts in an attempt to avoid Aris, but to also get caught up with my friends. As I’m scrolling through my newsfeed, I spot a picture of Alex with his arm around a pretty woman. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear, and while I should be upset or jealous, I find myself smiling, happy he’s having a good time in Chicago.

“Who’s that?” Kostas’s demanding voice asks. I jump in shock, my phone falling into my lap. I didn’t realize he was paying any attention to what I’m doing. “Who. Is. That?” he asks again, his tone telling me he’s about three seconds from losing his shit.

“Alex,” I admit. “He’s still on my social media.”

“Do you still talk to him?” he asks, taking the phone from my lap and clicking on the picture.

“No, I haven’t talked to anyone except my mom,” I tell him, flinching slightly when I mention her. The last thing I want is for her to be on his radar.

“Hmm…” He hands me back my phone. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to have your ex on your social media. It looks bad.” In other words, delete him now before I make you.

Remembering Aris is in the car with us, I glance over at him, embarrassed that Kostas is telling me what to do like I’m his puppet. I expect to find him smirking at me, enjoying Kostas giving me shit, but instead I find he has his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes are pointed narrowly at Kostas as if he’s silently cursing him. It’s no secret they have some weird love-hate relationship going on, but the way he’s glowering at his brother looks a hell of a lot more like hate than love.


Tags: K. Webster, Nikki Ash Truths and Lies Romance